


Reminiscence

by OJuice (krissthegirl)



Category: Suikoden, Suikoden II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krissthegirl/pseuds/OJuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riou remembers his first battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminiscence

It is more than a lifetime ago to Riou, well-over a century in reality, but he has never once forgotten the raging battles of the Dunan Unification War. For a wide-eyed twelve-year-old, it's difficult to keep those innocent eyes off the gore. It's so new, so different—something nobody should ever have to witness firsthand. He knew this even back then and yet he could not stop watching and, worse, participating.

Aside from the violence, he remembers the calm and stillness of the night before battle, how his nerves make it difficult for him to do much of anything except fidget and squirm. He remembers visiting Leona during these times and she'll offer him tea or milk or anything, but he won't accept, not even a glass of water because he feels like he is about to vomit from his sheer nervousness. Even to this day, when he's learned to stop counting his age, he can't stand the calm, the moment when the dice is in the air and he waits, breath held, muscles tense. He wants to scream during this time; he never much cared for chinchirorin either. But there is no Leona this time around with her soothing presence, her motherly aura and the foreign lullabies she sang only for him.

Someone nudges him and his mind snaps back to the present. These days, it's easy to get lost in the past and it scares Riou because he is afraid he'll go mad chasing after the specters of yesterday.

Some are playing chinchirorin in the barracks somewhere; the clink of dice hitting the bowl is unmistakable, a sound burned in Riou's memory and if he closes his eyes and tries very hard, he can almost hear Viktor's drunken guffaws in the background, Flik muttering for him to not be a loud drunk, the sound of the lake hitting the cliff side. On certain days, he can even hear Apple somewhere and her quill scratching into parchment ("The new troop arrangements," she would say when he goes to see her).

"Did you get your share?" Jowys asks him and brings him back to the present once again. Riou glances down at his tin container, nose crinkling at the sight of today's gruel and nods.

It's just the two of them now. Nanami died a long while ago in childbirth. She married young to a small-town man who had never seen war firsthand, died bearing a still-born child a year after and then her husband went mad and killed himself only a few weeks later. Riou didn't speak for a year. Jowy hardly did anything. But they're keeping on, because with True Runes, there isn't much to do other than keep trying.

Riou remembers when Luc approached them, a few months after Nanami passed. He found them in the Island Nations doing odd jobs for sailors who needed the extra hands. It helps them heal, Jowy explained to Luc, if nothing around reminded them of their past lives; it'll help them cope with their own immortality.

"Don't you want to be free?" Luc asks and they both notice a crazed look in his eyes, as if he's lost something of great importance to him as well.

Riou didn't speak; Jowy just listened.

Luc went on to tell them of his plan to destroy a True Rune, his plot to kill a god. Riou was almost sold and Jowy was half-way there. With sister and best friend freshly taken, the two of them were dangerous. Dangerous, but did not want to risk loss again, not when they've faced the mortality of those they care about most.

They were in Falena when they heard news of Luc's demise many years later and Riou crossed off another name in his mind (he can practically hear the long, drawn-out scratch as a line crosses through his name, written on stone). Today there are very few left on the tablet in his mind: Jeane, Vicki, Jowy.

On occasion they run into Tir McDohl and try to convince him to come along. Nobody should be travelling alone. But Tir always declines politely and continues aimlessly. Sometimes they run into other True Rune wielders who shared similar fates. They exchange stories when they meet, give advice when appropriate, sometimes not even speak at all because words are superfluous and the bond they share is special, even though they are hardly better than strangers.

Jowy sits next to him, in his uniform with his staff close by (others have laughed at their "old fashioned" means of fighting; but the laughter ends when they see the two in action. All they do is fight. They are experts in killing). They are in another war, somewhere on the edge of where the Toran Republic used to be (that was an incredibly bloody conflict, Jowy would reminisce). Neither knew too much of the specifics, but signed up only because they knew and recognized nothing else at this point, nothing other than the stillness of the night before battle, the anticipation and nervous laughter and delicate light-heartedness in the barracks. Riou knew this well; Jowy did, too.

His mind continued to drift as he fidgeted with his one glove (he always, always kept the right one on). He remembers his first battle as leader of the Orange Army so vividly.

The horses were getting restless waiting and everyone was tense behind him. Riou kept his eyes on the horizon, waiting for the signal to move. His fisted hands adjusted and readjusted themselves on the reigns of his horse and he shifted underneath his armor (it was just a little too big, but they insisted on a little growing room for practical and aesthetic reasons). He remembers feeling queasy, like he was about to vomit and he probably did the night before. Leona or Nanami probably was there, rubbing his back and humming quietly.

Riou squinted, eyes scanning as far as he could and spotted their forces colliding with Highland. The sound of opponents crashing seemed to echo and roll down the plains to where they hid. Shifting his weight around again, he waited as patiently as possible. The signal came suddenly and he motioned for his men to charge forward and with a thunderous yell, they did.

He felt his rune tingle with steady strength, sensing danger. It was like a game, Riou now reflects: just slash away at blue uniforms ("Don't think of them as men, Riou," Viktor advised him before battle, "it makes it easier.").

Arrows flew by, always missing him or lodging into his armor but never far enough to cause even a scratch or poke; he supposed it was his rune's doing. Riou felt his energy drain away as his rune continued to protect him. Soon the men around him began to fall, to his left and right, and he panicked a little (but never stopped slashing away at blue uniforms; don't think of what's underneath, Riou, he tells himself). A warmth, sudden and growing, soon spread from his right hand and the glow seemed to seep out of thick gloves. Soon the men around who had fallen rose to their feet, surprised that they still lived and had the strength to fight.

They pushed tirelessly forward, leaving a wake of fallen Highland soldiers. Right hand burned with once-gentle warmth as the slashes and attacks aimed his way missed, sometimes didn't even get close. He remembered looking off briefly in the distance, seeing Flik's troops being driven back.

Without thinking, he yelled for his men to continue. What gumption this young boy has to order seasoned fighters and warriors around! But they moved forward, heeding their leader's command, without question, without hesitation, without fear. That never ceased to surprise Riou during the war, how these soldiers, some even three times his age then, would follow him unflinchingly.

The general enters the barracks then and begins to spread good cheer and high hopes for everyone. Riou guesses he is older than this middle-aged man who slaps his back too forcefully. Jowy and Riou both manage weary smiles before turning to their now-cold dinner.

It's the final battle tomorrow, against their nameless opponent. Riou and Jowy can't distinguish between bad and good, not when they've played both sides.

"It's only two different views fighting for survival," Shu says to Riou when the former strategist is old and graying but their former leader remains ever-youthful; Shu does not envy him.

But they keep on because that's the only thing they know. Who knows if their runes will abandon them, suddenly, violently for someone innocent and untarnished? For now, it's all part of a routine: they catch the waves of war, ride it for as long as they can, hopefully help a few people along the way, then wait for another one. There's always a war to fight somewhere in the world; that's one thing that remained the same.

The wars and battles seem to melt into one long struggle in their minds. And they both find themselves searching for something that reminds them of the old days: when Riou liked to play chinchirorin with Tai Ho and Gilbert and Shin, the cheating bastard; when Culgan and Seed played chess with Jowy on particularly slow days; when they fought with passion for something they truly believed; when they had something of worth to protect. These days, they fight simply because they find they will go mad otherwise.


End file.
